


Wake

by DaniJayNel



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Coma, F/F, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-18 23:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20199940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniJayNel/pseuds/DaniJayNel
Summary: An accident has Ymir lost in a coma with no hope of ever waking up. Historia refuses to give up on her, and despite Ymir's family urging for Historia to make the decision to switch off Ymir's life support, to let them say goodbye, she holds on.Ymir's soul is tethered to the earth, but not her body. She is tasked with battling nightmarish creatures in the hope that she can win her freedom and return to her body. She just hopes that Historia will wait long enough for her.After a year has passed since the accident, Ymir might finally succeed, but Historia decides it's time to say a proper farewell. Will Ymir make it in time before it's too late, and she's gone for good?





	Wake

**Author's Note:**

> Was dealing with some stuff so I needed to write this and it definitely made me cry lol

She held Ymir’s limp hand in her own and stared at the paleness of her brown skin and the freckles that she so loved to trace with her fingertip. Now, the pattern went untravelled and Ymir’s long fingers didn’t slide into place between her own, and it hurt so badly that Historia sometimes felt like she couldn’t breathe.

The steady _beep, beep, beep_ of Ymir’s heart monitor was the only sound in the room. Ymir’s assisted breaths were far too weak and wispy. Around Historia there was always some sort of bustling activity—Ymir’s family visiting, the nurses coming in to change the bedding and doctors visiting to see if there was any change.

There never really was.

“She should just accept it,” Historia heard a nurse mumbled to the other, both unaware that she could hear them. “The poor thing won’t ever wake up.”

“Yeah, it’s cruel to just keep her alive at this point,” the other nurse agreed.

Historia swallowed thickly and tightened her hand around Ymir’s. Her chest tightened and she squeezed her eyes tightly, begging, praying, _please, Ymir, squeeze my hand back. Please, Ymir, move. Please, Ymir, wake up._

Her prayers went forever unanswered.

Historia lost count of how many days she spent at the hospital in one go. The nurses took pity on her and allowed her to sleep beside Ymir in a nearby bed, but sometimes Historia’s sister came to drag her away. Historia needed and loathed those times.

“Historia,” Frieda’s soft voice broke Historia from her feverish daydreaming of Ymir opening her beautiful brown eyes. “You need a shower and a good meal. Come on.”

Historia ignored Frieda for a long moment, but her sister knew how this went, so she stood there and waited with her hand on Historia’s shoulder, firm and unyielding. Historia stared at the smooth planes of Ymir’s face, her still eyelids and unparted lips, at the feeding and breathing tubes and the now healed scar along her temple and forehead. It hurt. It hurt so bad.

Historia finally stood and Frieda led her from Ymir’s room and out the hospital building. They wordlessly climbed into her car and went to Frieda’s home, not Historia’s. Never Historia’s. It was filled with the essence of Ymir, and Historia wasn’t emotionally ready to step foot in there yet, to be reminded of the fact that her entire world was laying in a coma in a hospital bed, gone. Not really gone, but not there, either.

After showering and dressing in fresh clothes, Frieda took her out to eat. Historia wasn’t hungry. She didn’t even taste the food, but there would be an argument if she didn’t, so she chewed and swallowed and focused on the scrape of her fork on the plate. Her ears were mute to the other sounds around her.

“Historia,” Frieda spoke softly, breaking through her intense focus. “Mom and dad wanted me to talk to you.”

Historia was only half finished with her meal, but Frieda’s words sapped the last of her patience and she dropped her fork with a clang. “About?”

A hand came to rest on hers, comforting. It didn’t feel like anything.

“Historia, it’s been six months. Ymir is—”

“Recovering,” Historia cut in severely. She speared Frieda with a glare. “She’s recovering and she’ll wake up. Soon.”

Frieda pulled her hand away. “I understand that this is incredibly painful for you. I can’t imagine having to go through this myself. I just… Historia, it’s been six months with absolutely no improvement.”

“There has been no deterioration either.”

“Yeah, and that’s the problem.” She exhaled in a rush, like she could somehow fully comprehend the pain Historia was experiencing. “Historia, the doctors have told you that there is nothing we can do. She sustained severe brain damage. She’s gone. She’s not waking up.”

Historia clenched her teeth hard. The words sliced deeply into her very soul—because she knew they were true—but they also woke a feral sort of anger in her. “She _will_ wake up,” she growled under her breath.

“She has absolutely no brain activity, Historia. I’m sorry, but you need to start thinking about switching off her—”

“Don’t you dare,” Historia growled. Tears filled her eyes and spilled over her cheeks, surprising them both. “I am not killing her.”

“It’s not killing her.”

“What would you call it then, huh? She told me once, that if something like this ever happened that I should wait for her. Believe that she would make it. Lots of people have woken up after years and years.”

“Historia…”

“I’m not giving up on her. Never.”

She stood and left the restaurant, not caring if her sister followed. Frieda didn’t, thankfully, so Historia ordered a lift back to the hospital. The nurses gave her pitying looks as she walked the hallway and then finally slipped into the room. She closed the door behind her and filled her usual seat, and there Ymir was.

Still. _Beep, beep, beep_. Barely breathing. Not thinking. Not feeling. Not there. But there. It was enough. It had to be. If Historia had to make that decision, if she had to hear that heart stop, she would lose everything. There was only a tiny thread keeping her together and it would take nothing to make it snap.

Sitting there in the uncomfortable chair, holding onto Ymir’s warm, limp hand, Historia fell asleep.

XxX

Ymir stared at herself lying there in the bed, pathetic and weak. Historia was slumped over fast asleep, like she usually was. Ymir wished she could reach out and straighten her posture or get her to climb into the neighbouring bed, but like this she couldn’t make physical contact. It was so damn infuriating.

“Ymir,” Reiner called from the doorway.

Ymir turned. “She still hasn’t given up,” she told him, voice filled with determination.

Reiner’s eyes flashed. “And she won’t. You’ll see, she’ll hold out long enough.”

Ymir clenched her hand into a fist and let lightning ripple along her arm, and sighed. “I hope so.”

Six months ago, Ymir had been speeding home on her bike. It was her anniversary with Historia and she had gone out to get a special cake, Historia’s favourite. She hadn’t anticipated the truck that would slide on the wet road, that would knock her off her bike and send her hurtling through the sky. She didn’t even feel her skull crack open. When she woke, she thought she had died.

“You’re not dead yet,” a man had told her. She woke in a room filled with other people, all of them solemn and quiet.

“Where am I?” she had asked him.

He was muscled and blonde, and the look he gave her was fierce. “I’d say welcome to hell, but I’ve been told that’s not a funny joke.” He cracked a grin. “You’re in the in-between. My name is Reiner.”

“Ymir.”

“Well, Ymir. I won’t say it’s nice to meet you.”

The room had no furniture, nothing. Just four walls and two windows, showing a bustling city outside. There were no latches on the windows at all, and there was no door. When she asked how they could get out, no one answered her.

“Only one way out,” Reiner told her. “We get summoned.”

“To where?”

He pointed out the window. “To there. Wherever they appear.”

“They?”

“The Scorch.” His expression darkened. “Creatures of the night. We don’t really know that much about them, other than that we have to kill them. You’re here because your body is still tethered to this world, but your soul isn’t.”

Ymir didn’t want to believe him. But then they were beamed out and thrown into the middle of a busy street, and when a car sped right through her, she believed it.

Now, this was their twenty-fifth summon. They were given weapons of elements to wield because they couldn’t touch things from the waking world. That’s what they called it. The Scorch existed in the in-between, but their maliciousness bled into the Wake and effected innocent lives. The Scorch caused natural disaster, disease, accidents and a lot of things that people decided were misfortune and just bad luck.

The Scorch were created by the negative emotions of humanity.

They were the warriors, the soldiers of the in-between, and it was their duty to kill the Scorch. There was no proof, but there was a rumour that whoever killed the Queen Scorch would be given its core of life and allowed to return to their body—so long as their body still remained. If a soldier’s body expired, their soul would remain in the in-between until they died a second death, and then they would move on to the Other. Ymir didn’t know if it was heaven or hell or what. This certainly felt like hell.

The Scorch were terrible, horrible creatures. They were disfigured, shadowed creatures with multiple limbs and sharp, unbreakable teeth. They hungered for the flesh of the soldiers, so many of them died in battle, never even given the chance to scramble about to save their lives and return to the Wake.

Ymir followed Reiner out of the hospital building. Nearby a battle raged on with a cluster of new Scorch. They were clumsy and angry and very easy to pick off. Seeing them was a good sign, too. Baby Scorch meant that the Queen was nearby. A Queen usually lingered in places of concentrated fear and anguish, like cemeteries, hospitals and prisons. Ymir had spent the last six months searching for this Queen, so that she could fight it and return to her body, to Historia.

“Let’s do this, then,” Reiner told her, fire rippling along his bared arms.

Ymir let her lightning crackle. “Let’s.”

XxX

A year. Historia wondered if there would ever come a time when she didn’t wake up and suck in a breath of air to still the scorching of fire in her chest. Every day it got a little easier, but it was still so damn difficult. A year had passed since Ymir’s accident. Historia was still stubborn in that she would wait for Ymir, even though nurses and doctors and family told her otherwise, told her to say goodbye. Ymir’s mothers begged her; told her they needed a funeral to say a proper goodbye.

_But Ymir is still here!_ she would scream at them, and they would leave, crying. They couldn’t do a thing; Historia had the last say. Historia was endlessly grateful that Ymir had trusted her with her life. But, this was no way to live.

Every day that went by, Historia considered their request with a little more seriousness. She knew that Ymir was gone, that she was only kept going by the machines. If she did come back, no one knew if she would even be herself anymore. She would need to relearn everything. She could even wake up and not be able to move at all.

That was fine. Historia was prepared for anything, so long as she still had Ymir. Whatever she needed to endure, she would do it. They would do it together.

Historia went to visit Ymir and found her mothers already there. They were sitting by her bed, holding her hand, talking to her. One was crying, the other stoic. Historia lingered outside the door and listened, heart breaking. They were still grieving, still in pain. Just like her. When they left, they gave her hugs, but their smiles were grave.

Historia filled the seat they left behind and took Ymir’s warm hand in her own. She imagined a world without Ymir in it, and she quietly sobbed and cursed and thought that this was the most pain she had ever experienced in her life.

Because she knew they were right, and she knew it was time to say goodbye.

XxX

Ymir could feel it, the moment Historia said goodbye to her. It was like an icy chill running down her spine. The realization brought with it waves of pain, but also understanding. Historia had waited an entire year for her, and yet she hadn’t been able to save herself yet.

“She’s going to unplug me,” Ymir told Reiner. They were strolling through the night, waiting to go back to the room after successfully destroying a group of Scorch. They’d lost three soldiers, but the other eight lingered in a loose circle around them. They were all bloody, dirty and tired. When they returned to the room, they would feel fine again.

“Ymir…” He gave her a look of pity. He knew what it was like, since he had been taken off of life support just a month before Ymir joined them. She saw her own pain reflected in his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Ymir told him, fists clenched. “I tried, and I failed. I… I’ll miss her. I just hope she can move on.”

That was all fine and wonderful, but before Reiner could even open his mouth, they heard an awful roar of anger and hunger, and Ymir’s eyes opened wide. There was only one creature that could make such a horrible sound. Normally they would recoil in horror and fear, but this time Ymir’s heart soared.

“The Queen,” she breathed, grinning broadly. Reiner grinned right back.

“Maybe you have enough time.”

She let her lightning crackle. “Only one way to find out.”

They bounded ahead of their group, adrenalin rushing, hearts thudding.

Ymir could feel when her body was taken off of life support, but she ignored the sad sensation to focus on the battle. The Queen was massive and dangerous, but Ymir was desperate. She had a wife to get back to. Historia was worth all the fighting in the world.

She just hoped she finished the battle in time.

XxX

Historia couldn’t help the sob that ripped from her mouth when the machines shut down. It had taken a long time for her to finally gather enough strength to make this decision, but when Ymir’s heartbeat stuttered and her lips opened, now free of the tubes, to release haggard breaths that stuttered and tapered out, she wanted to scream for them to put everything back in.

Ymir was once so tall and strong and bold, but she looked small and defeated in that bed. Her family cried around her as her heart struggled, as her breaths wheezed in and out, quieter and quieter.

Historia held her hand and she didn’t look away. She couldn’t. The grief and pain was consuming, but she wanted to remember what Ymir felt like alive—what her warmth felt like, what the weak pulse underneath her skin felt like. She would never have this again, so she wanted to ingrain the feel of Ymir’s skin into her memory.

Ymir’s heart skipped one more beat, and then it stilled. They switched the machine off quickly and Historia stared at Ymir’s unmoving chest, felt the silence in her veins against her fingertips. The tears were overflowing but she had no more sobs to let out. Her pain was just too great, too numbing. She felt herself locking everything away, and a part of her was being ripped away into Ymir’s still body, where it would be scattered into the wind with her.

Historia sucked in a shaky breath. This was it. “I’m so sorry,” she breathed out. Her tears dripped from her chin. “I love you so much, Ymir. I hope you rest well, wherever you go.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder but couldn’t move herself to see who it was. Her vision blurred with even more tears, and she just hunched over to let them out. This was it. Ymir was truly, actually gone. Nothing would ever be the same again.

A rasp. A flutter. Skin sliding against sheets. Historia heard gasps around the room. She lifted her tear-soaked face and felt the wind rush right out of her. Ymir’s fingers, though weak, closed around hers.

“Hey,” Ymir croaked.

Her voice. It was like music, like a song Historia had forgotten in her mind but never her soul. It was a sound that unlocked every muscle, every bone. Historia slumped forward, unbelieving, but then Ymir squeezed her hand again and she had the nerve to grin, and then Historia absolutely broke apart.

“I waited for you,” she sobbed against Ymir’s throat, where she felt a strong heartbeat, somehow.

Ymir pressed against her, a thin arm lifted to wrap around her quivering body. “I know,” Ymir mumbled into her hair. “I can’t remember what happened, but I feel like I held on just for you.”

Historia cried and cried until she had nothing left inside of her, and then she kissed Ymir so softly, so gently, like she was afraid this was a dream and any sudden movement would wake her.

“Welcome back,” Historia sobbed.

Ymir let out a weak chuckle. “I’m glad to be back.”

Months later, when Ymir recovered enough to leave and somewhat returned to her normal life, though over a year later, they visited the cemetery. They paused by a simple grave and Historia held Ymir’s hand tightly as she bent to place a bundle of blue flowers on the grass.

“Who is this?” Historia asked her.

Ymir lifted a hand to run a finger over the scar on her head. “I don’t know,” she answered, brows furrowed. “But I feel like I knew him, somehow. I just… felt like I needed to come here.” She straightened, pulled Historia against her. Historia would never tire of feeling her strength, her pull, her warmth. “Now let’s go. This place is making me sad.”

Historia nodded. They turned and left, but she cast a glance over her shoulder, at the name etched into the stone. It said _Reiner Braun_, and without understanding why, words dropped from her lips.

“Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always welcome! You can visit my tumblr at danijaynel.
> 
> Also, I kindly ask that no one leave comments demanding for an update. I despise comments like that and it will 100% ruin my motivation and drive to write. Do not tell me to update. Do not ask me to update. You can just simply say you're excited for the next chapter, or better yet, tell me why you liked the current chapter/whole story and I bet you it'll give me that urge to write. Think about your comment before you comment. I'm a human being, not a writing machine. Thank you <3


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